


Consumption

by walkamongstthestars



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-10
Updated: 2012-06-10
Packaged: 2017-11-07 10:38:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/430146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/walkamongstthestars/pseuds/walkamongstthestars
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>is there ever more a consuming task<br/>than to be consumed by someone else<br/>-----<br/>This is what happens at 4 in the morning.<br/>I don't know. I'm a bit mental.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Consumption

He can feel him in his veins

 

there is a sail in his heart and it blows with the tide

 

the tide in the veins

 

the veins in the man

 

the man with him in his veins

 

is there ever more consuming a task

 

than to be consumed by someone else

 

not as it could be with them

 

not as it should be

 

not as it would be

 

if it were ever a task

 

instead it is an event 

 

it is a definition

 

do not revel in the commonplace of these men

 

they do not want the happiness of the world

 

what a tender life that would be

 

they want nothing but the harsh

 

they want the plague and the fast

 

the fast the fast the fast fast light

 

in between the spaces of the dark

 

you can see the notes played out in the streaks

 

there is a calm in the storm where they rest

 

but the words they do not matter

 

the words cannot find themselves amongst the lights

 

how would words ever suffice to him

 

it is meager in the midst of consumption

 

it is meager in the midst of molding his body to the man's veins

 

how could blood run thicker than this

 

how could tidal waves cause any less conflict than the hearts of the men that beat to the crash

 

it is entirely not possible to search this far

 

to search any length

 

and find them

 

they are lost amongst the stars and the moon and the light of the sea

 

they are lost in the breeze of the ashes that float with the fish

 

they are lost in the burning of the stones under the water

 

they are encapsulated in a darkness that floats above light to refract a stillness

 

but they create such utter turmoil

 

dancing among the stars

 

dancing among the waves

 

do not worry thee with fantasies of their existence

 

it is but a lost soldier in the night

 

grasping out for the smoke beside

 

the tendrils that reach out and pull him in

 

pull his veins to his body and try to detach his soul

 

he is worshipped by the light because the darkness owns him

 

the light wants him back badly

 

but with a plume of darkness crawling on his skin how could he ever want to return

 

did he ever belong there, even?

 

he could not say

 

but as he felt the whisper of a flood inside him

 

as he felt the moon shift in his eyes and a giant eat him whole

 

he thought there could be nothing better

 

and he wanted more more more

 

so he took more more more

 

he never stopped taking

 

which was fine with the giant

 

the giant never stopped taking either

 

when would the time in the world come

 

for their eyes to not burn

 

to not burn with the dark

 

burn with the pain of a thousand non existent words

 

how could those words but spit upon them

 

vile and loathsome

 

they do not suffice

 

nothing ever suffices

 

which angers them

 

it shouldn't but it does

 

but then they let themselves close in on the world and then it is fine

 

they can wrap it all up and toss it away

 

into the ashes of the flames that once burned, now long forgotten

 

what would it be if not useless to them

 

it's only ever been useless to them

 

this world this light this 

 

 

it is but a cold memory of the time they had to reach

 

how could that ever have been

 

it was unfair

 

reaching was not something in their extensive lack of vocabulary

 

reaching was a curse of the mighty on their pitiful souls

 

those high and those above could never touch them

 

not in the way they wanted

 

they could float alongside the river of light

 

pretend it didn't exist

 

as they were pulled pulled pulled toward it

 

but they did not want that why would they

 

it's far too resilient to their veins and their blood

 

and that was unsettling

 

there was a violence in the light they preferred to let alone

 

because it shook them out of their shadowed existence

 

they couldn't breathe in the light as it shattered their hearts

 

it showed them what could've been and never was

 

but in the folds of the dark there was instead a peace and a way to exist

 

in the corners of their eyes they could see the light approach

 

and they ran and ran and ran

 

together

 

he reached for him

 

he should never have had to reach for him

 

but the light was so violently attacking

 

the light was so violently pulling

 

he had to reach

 

and it was the most painful thing he'd ever done

 

the most painful thing the other man had ever witnessed

 

and then they were both but floating corpses in the sky

 

gazing down at the reverie in the light

 

the light had won, ha ha, but of course!

 

now they were none and it couldn't be better

 

the world sighed and knew its duty was done

 

it could not handle the rejection

 

it could not handle the disturbance

 

so it shunned them

 

but they were happy with that

 

they could fall and fall and fall

 

and it was okay

 

because the smoke would engulf and the soldier would push back

 

would grasp and would tear

 

to get inside the smoke

 

to feel its pulse and its cracked window of a soul

 

the soldier could lick at the wounds and force the smoke into a container

 

the smoke liked that

 

it needed to be contained

 

it pained the soldier that it needed it

 

but then he knew the man could only live that way

 

otherwise they'd both have to float off

 

they'd both have to disappear into smoke

 

but that wasn't the soldier

 

and that was what the smoke needed

 

the smoke had to have something solid to hold on to

 

and even though it broke the hearts of all who looked on

 

the soldier let the smoke wrap around him and pull him down

 

and the soldier put them inside a glass case

 

a case with the wisps of their sounds dancing around

 

and others looked on and sighed

 

this was the undoing of those who had died

 

and it was never okay

 

but it was always what had to happen

 

the soldier knew it and did not protest

 

and though others did

 

the soldier would claw and claw away

 

until he saw the light of day

 

and shook his fist in a rage of glory

 

alas, but i have won he would say

 

i will leave you for the dark

 

it is so today

 

and then the dark would possess him and soon

 

he was nothing but a wither of what he once was

 

and that was okay because they together were strong

 

they together could breathe

 

there was no longer suffocation

 

as they held on for dear life

 

until they reached their final destination


End file.
